


Conversations in a Quiet Room

by GhostFalcon



Series: Nothing But Star Wars [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Romance, Everything Hurts, F/M, Fall of the Republic, Heart-to-Heart, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Post-Order 66, Return to Mandalore, Reunions, Satine Kryze Lives, Sisterly Love, The Twins Are Safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostFalcon/pseuds/GhostFalcon
Summary: In a universe where everything is the same except Satine survives the Clone Wars and bears witness to the fall of the Republic.
Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze & Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Series: Nothing But Star Wars [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/371348
Comments: 17
Kudos: 204





	1. Transfer of Power

**Author's Note:**

> A two-shot that was nagging at my soul lately during my rewatch of the Clone Wars!

You'd have to be dead to miss the fall of the Republic.

It was on every holonet site, every sign, every screen; even in a neutral system. As for Satine Kryze, it was written all over her face. 

_"Jedi uprising."_ She sneered in internal disbelief, though she was positive her own advisors knew where she stood on _that_ supposed fact, which was cutting through every possible news channel. She found it positively ridiculous how there only seemed to be one narrative on the matter. No debate, no explanation, not even an investigation. The Jedi, who despite their more recent actions as soldiers (per the _Republic's_ demand, might she add), were typically the very last vestiges of peace in the corrupt government. Now, they were bad. Simple as that.

Of course, in an Empire there is no other point of view- just the Emperor's. 

She may have not always agreed with the Jedi, but at their core, she knew in her bones that they were fundamentally good. One did not become a successful leader without having fine-tuned instincts. 

But she still had to watch their temple burn. The news outlets framed it as a success for the newly anointed Emperor Palpatine, who heroically ridded the galaxy of a treasonous and dangerous cult. It was not reported as the tragedy it was. They did not talk about the young children that lost their home and loved ones at best and their lives at worst. They did not show the Jedi walking along their friends into battle to only have the very same guns turned on them in half an instant. They did not display the cries or the fear or the bloodshed. Instead, they kept reverting back to what Satine could only assumed was doctored footage of Master Mace Windu attempting to assassinate Palpatine. The footage cut out from there, erasing the rest of the scene without a trace.

And whether out of deliberate ignorance or general enthusiasm, people ate it up. It was easier to believe that the strange religion that outsiders did not understand betrayed its people rather than the government. It was easier to see the Jedi as dangers than it was an old man that supposedly navigated them into peace. 

The term "peace" was now being thrown around hither and yon, it seemed.

Some folded because they had to and surely developed contingency plans of their own. Bail Organa of Alderaan was certainly no fan of the matter by glance alone. There was Mon Mothma, who was by far the boldest of his adversaries, despite technically walking in line with the Emperor's new ideals. Padmé Amidala had been one of them, of course, but...

Satine shivered at the thought of her friend's unfortunate loss. She hadn't even known Padmé was pregnant. It was another thing she could not fixate on for too long if she wanted to remain on task. 

Wanted posters flocked everywhere in search of remaining Jedi stragglers. Despite the pain that it caused her to look upon such young and abandoned faces, she checked every single day for updates. It did not mean these Jedi were necessarily safe or alive, but it was the only form of hope Satine had to go on. Mandalore would surely be confiscated by the Empire. Palpatine's very goal seemed to be acquisition at its finest. 

It was only a matter of time as it had been a mere 3 weeks since the destruction of the Jedi Temple. The Empire was to be the way. As a leader of an entire group of people, she had to determine what was best for them. Her whole platform had been built on pacifism and maintaining the peace, but this Empire would not be responding with such kindness. 

She did not doubt the fighting capabilities of her people, either, of course. They were Mandalorians, but there was not enough of them to take on the drones of brain-washed soldiers that would arrive at the front door the moment someone set a toe out of line. 

_"Those that attempt to disrupt the peace and bring chaos to our galaxy will be silenced."_ Slavery. He was going to enslave those that did not fall firmly into his shriveled grasp.

She never liked that man. Ever. 

She looked out her balcony and at the morning sky that washed the city in orange and pink hues. It was beautiful and peaking through the skyscrapers, but her anxiety kept her from appreciating its true decadence. She could not allow herself to slow down and take a moment. There was too much to prepare for and worst of all, there was too much potential loss that was creeping in the corner of her mind. She tightened her grip on the railing to steady herself to Mandalore and to her people. That, in and of itself, was enough of a budding tragedy that did not require thought of a Jedi with soft eyes and sharp wit.

_The Empire was coming._

"Satine?" Her sister's voice called from behind her, interrupting her array of thoughts. "Korkie said you wanted to speak with me."

She released a breath before turning to face Bo-Katan, who looked nothing like her, but had aged substantially in the past couple of years- ever since she distanced herself from Death Watch. Dark circles underlined her eyes, indicating she'd been sleeping approximately as much as Satine had lately. Despite their philosophical differences, both wanted what was best for Mandalore and both knew for a fact that this Empire was not that. Bo-Katan had changed her mind significantly ever since they began to work together on improving Mandalore's future. Fighting off Maul and his band of cronies certainly acted as a much needed force for the two of them to get along. 

Still, in the amber lighting of the hallway, Satine could not help but see her little sister. Not the one that woke up one day and decided Satine was weak and went and joined a terrorist group, but the one that would come into her room when she was small and troubled with nightmares. The one that would give Satine her olives because she didn't like them and accept Satine's cucumbers for the same reason. The one that wanted _Satine_ to take her to school or to read to her or sing with her.

She knew, of course, that Bo was no longer that little girl and to think of her in such a way was hurtful to the both of them in the long run. They were on the same side again, which would have to do. 

"I did. The Empire is coming for Mandalore."

Bo snorted, "We've known that."

"I reckon they'll be here any day now." She twisted her hands nervously at what she was about to ask of her sister. Her sister, who was no longer a child, but still much younger than anyone that should take on such responsibility. She'd decided that for herself, in a sense, when she wanted to uproot everything Satine had built. She'd apologized since then in her own way and while Satine had mostly forgiven her, there was one final piece to that puzzle of redemption. She hadn't seen it until she awoke this morning and realized what needed to happen for Mandalore.

"You're afraid." She commented, "We all are."

"I need you to take my crown away from me." Somehow, she managed to look Bo-Katan square in the eyes when she said it. Despite all the practice of decorum and the schmoozing of politics, she could not fool her sister. If she did not make immediate eye contact, it would not resonate as an official decree. 

"Excuse me?"

Now that it was said, it became easier to explain, for some reason. The first words were often the hardest to say, because from there, the frame of conversation was dictated. 

"I'm a threat to our people, Bo. I've been nothing but a thorn in the Emperor's side during the Clone Wars. Had it not been for me, we would have been another system he would already possess. On top of all of that, I have considerably strong associations with a wanted Jedi Master of the High Council. I'm sure they'll see that as a reason to call me treasonous."

"And I'm your sister."

"Who has never publicly supported me." She didn't mean for it to sound like a slight, but it certainly came out that way. She didn't miss the way her sister's eyes fell just a smidge, but she continued on. "Which I never would have believed that to be a strength until now. Nobody of the public knows you are on my side."

"Because you didn't want to be associated with me."

"That's not-" She clenched her fist and took in a calming breath. "I didn't want the rest of our people to be under the assumption that I'm in the business of being in peace with terrorists. Even if I know, in my heart, that that is not _you._ Your narrative in this is as someone who Palpatine likely believes he can manipulate."

_Because you've been manipulated in the past._

"But you aren't." Satine said with a hardened edge to her voice. 

"I'm no leader either." She squawked, "Politics and... And diplomatic solutions... And boring legislature... That's your ballpark, not mine."

"You do not see what I see when I look at you." She took her sister's hands in her own. "When I look at you, I see someone strong, adaptable, smart, and caring. All of which, might I add, are exceptional qualities to have as a leader. Also, when you're not trying to be a brooding troglodyte, people like you quite a bit."

A fond smile quirked at her lips as she rolled her eyes. She did not release Satine's hands. "And you think all of your loyal advisors and precious followers will listen to me if I snatch that crown from off your head?"

"Since when do you need to be well-liked?"

She shrugged, "You've got me there. And remind me again why you can't just pawn it off to me in an announcement?"

"Because then the Empire will know we are at least on speaking terms." 

Bo nodded and seemed to weigh the heaviness of the conversation just then. She didn't want to be Duchess of Mandalore, but truthfully, when Satine was 18 years old and forced into the role after her Father's murder, she hadn't wanted it very much either. But she had a duty to uphold. 

She waited for more protest, hoping and praying she had the words of encouragement to persuade her sister as well as herself.

"I know this is hard for you." Bo said. "I don't deserve this."

"Then earn it." Satine said. 

The redhead released a breathy laugh and looked nervous for the first time in her life. It was a valid title to be nervous over. Satine remembered the night before her commencement. Satine hadn't been the world's favorable candidate either at the time. There she was, a young girl who seemed like an outsider that spent most of her days on Coruscant rather than her home world of Kalevala. Many viewed Satine as someone that wanted to crush Mandalorian tradition in favor of 'fluff' that had filled her head. She was labeled an idealist and a fool, but she fought (in her own way) tooth and nail to get where she needed to be. 

And the hurt the hurt that settled over Satine as she thought about leaving Mandalore was immeasurable. It cracked her heart in ways she did not know were possible. She'd given up everything for her people. Everything. Now, it seemed she had to give _them_ up if she wanted them to survive. It was a cruel and unfair joke, but she'd analyzed it from every angle. The Empire was coming and she knew they would not see her as someone they could work with. She was unsure if she could play into their game. 

Better for Bo-Katan to play the part of the obedient Imperial leader and to do everything to protect the citizens of Mandalore than for some stranger to come in and enslave everyone. 

"What will come of you?"

That was a very good question. 

"I can advise you- off the books, of course, because so long as I live and breathe, you will never be alone in this."

"Do you think..." She trailed off like she wasn't sure if what weighed on her should be said. 

While Satine was always a huge proponent of strategizing conversations, there was no room for tactics here. "What is it?"

"Do you think Kenobi made it?" 

That was a question that Satine had not been prepared to ask herself. While she'd never been the type of woman to lose herself in anything, much less a _man_ , she could not deny that a piece of herself would die alongside Obi-Wan Kenobi. She could not seem to fathom it and to question his resilience felt like betrayal, but it had been weeks since the fall of the temple and the hunt for remaining Jedi began. Obi-Wan's name had been popular on the list of the 'Unfound' as they were calling it, but this did not guarantee his safety. It was a big galaxy, but the Empire's reach was far. 

"I've not heard anything." She said quietly.

Bo-Katan nodded, "Sometimes, no news is good news, yeah?"

"Yeah." Satine swallowed what felt like her whole heart.

_Actual good news would be better though._


	2. Saying the Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20 years too late, Satine finally breaks the stalemate.

That night, much like all the others, was impossible to sleep through. 

On top of there being _far_ too much to do to prepare for the plan she and Bo-Katan had ultimately decided was most effective, her head was swimming with agonizing bouts of anger- no, sadness- or was it fear? She hadn't even realized how lost she was to the throws of despair until droplets began to stain the parchment she'd been using to keep record of her plans. And for what? Sitting at her desk and crying about it certainly wasn't going to save her people or bring friends back from the dead or pry the fate of the galaxy from a dictator's hands.

She ran a hand through the blonde ringlets that were unceremoniously hanging just above her shoulders. No headdress or hairpins or clips to dress it up in any fashion. The moment didn't call for any glamor for there was nothing glamorous about anxiety. 

No, she had to believe that Mandalore would prevail. It managed to thrive in spite of its planets being 'unlivable' on some standards. It banded together as a collective in times of strife for thousands of years and continuously adapted. It picked itself up after a horrific civil war and dragged itself into a new age under the tutelage of an inexperienced leader with little more than hopes and dreams at her arsenal. And it would survive this.

She pushed her chair away from her desk, determined to use this spark of faith to warm her through the night. She gazed out her window reverently and took a moment to appreciate the Sundari skyline. She wondered what the Empire would change- who would they exploit. Invasion rarely came without the prospect of exploitation, particularly since they recently showed her they were fond of genocide. One of the Republic's last acts was to technically invade Mandalore- though that was at the deliberate demand of Bo-Katan, who knew it was the only way to drive Maul off planet.

It was one of the moments that defined Satine's choice to pass the mantle over to Bo. She made a call that Satine might have never made and it saved countless lives. Tomorrow morning, she would be the new Duchess of Mandalore and the Empire would have her to deal with. It was poetic justice in a sense, because Satine reasoned that they were getting the scrappier of the Kryze sisters. They just didn't know it yet. She would play her part and build Mandalore up in the shadows- a place her people had been for far too long. They would think Bo stole it all and that Satine was weak, but anything to elevate them to the best possible outcome.

A strange ship entered the biosphere and Satine felt something within her seize up. 

Had they come? 

_"Don't be ridiculous, they wouldn't just send one ship."_ She thought. _"And certainly not of Alderaanian make."_

She did her best to quell any nerves that crept up on her. The ship had landed on one of the royal landing pads.

They'd announced Obi-Wan's death on the holonet earlier that afternoon. It happened on Utapau weeks prior, just a mere minute after the cursed order had been given. He was shot from behind by Commander Cody, who Satine remembered. She _met_ this man. She shook his hand after being introduced by Obi-Wan. They seemed to be friends on and off the battlefield. 

And he shot him in the back. Obi-Wan fell into the water below and never resurfaced. 

How had they phrased it? Oh, he was apparently "fleeing arrest", which couldn't have possibly sounded _less_ like Obi-Wan. 

Anakin's death was announced shortly after, evidently a casualty of the initial burning of the Jedi temple. Ahsoka's lightsabers had been recovered, but no trace of her. She was no longer a part of the order, so Satine absently wondered if they'd look for her with less scrutiny. 

She was only a child.

Satine was convinced that none of this information fully resonated with her just yet. She was in a meeting when it had blasted across the screens without warning. Before she could even have the opportunity to turn it off, there was Obi-Wan's handsome face staring back at her with the confirmation that he'd been accounted for. The room was silent after the message ended and her entire round table looked to her, waiting, gaging, trying to see what she required of them. Because what does one say when the murder of a close friend was announced in the middle of a budget meeting?

Satine went with, "And as for the transportation tax..."

Business, as usual.

She would deal with it. She'd have to. It seemed after this transition of power settled in, she would have bounties of time to come to terms with the loss of her... Obi-Wan. His place in her world was never clear, but his place in her heart was extensive and for that, she would have no choice but to mourn him and the piece of herself that laid dormant for too long... Reignited only by his tendency to boomerang back to her whether by his own volition or not. She'd taken care to never pine for him in the years they'd been apart, because Satine Kryze does _not_ pine and certainly not for someone that was always just out of her reach. She'd even had the occasional suitor here or there, but she'd be a liar to say anyone truly inspired her the way he had. 

Thinking of him in past tense cracked something hollow within her, especially when he felt so present. 

The doors behind her swished open swiftly and she had half a mind to snap at one of her attendants for their lack of courtesy. How dare they interrupt her pity party! She thought better of it, of course, and waited for whatever news they had for her.

"Hello, there."

She whipped around to prove that no, her ears were not deceiving her, because leaning against her doorframe like he'd always belonged there was one disheveled and battle-worn Obi-Wan Kenobi. For a woman that rarely had the breath stolen from her, she gasped. A swell of emotions overtook her- the first of which was notably relief, followed by confusion and anger, of course there was anger. She could not decide whether she wanted to run into his arms or smack that ridiculous beard off of his cocksure face. 

That anger seemed to boil to the top of her priority list, forming from an intense manifestation of the fear and anxiety that had riddled her for the past few weeks- all coming to fruition towards him whether it was fair or not. She'd thought he was dead! He let her believe he was dead for nearly a month! And the best he can do is appear without warning in her room, with a stupid smirk on his face?

Oh, she had _words_. Words were her fire and now that she had the affirmation that he was somehow alive, she was going to use them, dammit. She stormed towards him, a finger outstretched and ready to point at him for emphasis.

"Why, you-" They died on her tongue the second she got a better view of him and could see how ragged he truly looked. He looked like he hadn't slept in ages with dark circles under his eyes, a definitive slouch in his stance which offset his usual air of perpetual confidence, and an overall weary look in his eyes. His tunic appeared to be singed and marred with ash. That very same ash speckled across his beard and on his boots. On top of that, he seemed to have a slight limp as he was clearly favoring one leg over the other. 

Overall, he looked like a broken man. And for as stressful as these past few weeks had been for her, her chest felt like it could concave at the thought of what he'd been through; what he'd lost.

Still, the only thing Satine could seem to say was, "You look dreadful!"

"And you as lovely as ever." Such sentiments used to make her blush across the campfire what felt like ages ago, but not now. "I do apologize for any worry I might have caused you. I was slightly tied up."

His casual quip did not frustrate her this time for it was obvious he was deflecting. Instead, she approached him and took his face in her hands, running her thumbs across sharp cheekbones and down his bearded face to hold his chin. He somehow looked even more exhausted up close and there was a carefully crafted coyness in his eyes that was thinly shielding a heavy weight. Someone who knew him less might fall for the levity he attempted, but she was not so easily fooled and knew more layers of him than he'd probably care to admit. 

When she determined that he was physically functioning, she met his eyes again and felt her heart break all over again as he shifted in his stance. "Satine..."

He did not stare at her with the caution of someone flying too close to the sun as he seemed to lately. He looked at her with his heart as near to his sleeve as a man like Obi-Wan could allow. She sought that as her opportunity. As much as drinking in his being _alive_ was soothing to the fire of unrest that raged within her, it was not enough to extinguish it altogether.

"The holonets say you're dead."

"I've never been very good at dying." He laughed weakly.

"Yet you always seem to be trying." She said softly.

"For as horrible as I seem to be at dying, near-death experiences happen to be a primary skillset of mine."

"I do remember that about you."

"Those weren't _all_ because of me." He emphasized.

"And what about Anakin and the others? Do they..." She held in a shaky breath. "Do they share your predilection for close calls?"

He reached up and held her hands in place over his face, running a thumb along her wrist. They'd not been this affectionate since their year on the run all those years ago during the Mandalorian Civil War, but simply having the knowledge that he was still a tangible and living presence was just not enough at the moment. She needed the absolute physical proof that he was here and not about to evaporate into existence or into the Empire's evil clutches. As for him, he looked like he hadn't interacted with someone that _wasn't_ pointing a blaster at him for quite some time. 

"They did." And it was the ever purposeful utilization of past-tense along with the defeat in his tone that made it all too real. It was one thing to hear it on the news or to spread it from word of mouth, but to be standing in front of a man that was already becoming a relic of a different time... Was a different experience altogether. The knowledge of the Jedi's increasing obsoletion certainly made her all the more grateful that this relic was in front of her at all.

She dropped her hands, which suddenly felt too heavy to keep held in one place. They didn't go far, settling instead on his chest over the scorched lapels of his tunic. He wobbled forward a little too much and it became obvious that he was unable to stand and continue this conversation. She reached down and guided him to the edge of her bed so he could sit. Had he been in better spirits, he would have made some smart comment about her wasting no time in getting him to bed while she would have returned with some well-articulated slight suggesting performance issues.

Instead they sat with knees touching, feeling grounded for the first time since the galaxy decided to open up beneath them. 

"Anakin's dead, Satine." Was what he went with, which she knew was the crux at what really ached him. She was not force-sensitive in the slightest, but could feel that specific pain emanating off of him. The love Obi-Wan had for his former padawan was evident. The Jedi were never allowed attachment, but were given children to care for and practically parent. No, it did not make sense, but she never voiced this contradiction. She questioned a lot about the Jedi Order in her time spent with Obi-Wan, but never in the love or camaraderie they felt for each other. 

Forgoing her initial desire for answers, she reached a hand up and dusted some of the ash from his auburn hair. "I'm so sorry, Obi."

"And it's my fault." He said.

Always the guilt-martyr. "That's not-"

"-I sliced off his limbs and left him to burn." He choked out and turned to her, all pretenses shattered from behind his dark blue eyes. "I killed him."

She pulled back, but only slightly, eyes wide and posture frozen. At this point, she felt like she'd heard everything in her life. "Explain?"

He sighed and leaned forward, pinching his brow between his fingers. "Mace Windu did try to kill Palpatine."

"Okay?" Satine could see that Obi-Wan was definitely not in the spirit to have the life shaken out of him, but her resolve on the matter was growing thinner and thinner as he continued to drop short and curt details that made absolutely no sense in the present universe that she lived in. It did not help that he did so with an expectation that she understood. 

"But..." He shook his head. "Not because there was a Jedi Uprising."

"I know that." She said indignantly. 

He lifted his head with great effort to meet her gaze. "Palpatine is a Sith Lord."

She did not know that.

Satine's jaw set. She did not know nearly as much about Jedi history or lore as she did Mandalorian history, but she did know enough to know that Sith typically traveled in pairs. This entire Clone Wars, the Republic was on the hunt for this other Sith Lord after first encountering the evil Darth Maul and finding him to be the apprentice. Then, there was Count Dooku, who was yet another apprentice. That horrid Ventress somehow did not count. And the war ended without any mention of another Sith.

Which she felt horribly stupid for not coming to such a conclusion on her own. Of _course_ the present leader of the galaxy was a Sith Lord. 

"That's why the Jedi confronted him then." She said and at Obi-Wan's nod, she grimaced. "And I'm guessing he meets his end after the video cuts off."

"Curious how they managed that, huh?" He sighed, "In doing so, they also cut out the part where Anakin falls."

"Falls?" She wrinkles her brow. "From where?"

"No... He..." And it looked like Obi-Wan would rather vomit than speak his piece. "He fell to the dark side of the force."

She gasped. No, that couldn't be right. Not Anakin. She remembered him clear as day at their doorstep a mere few months ago. He was impetuous and rebellious- definitely not one to color within the lines- but radiated goodness all the same. He cared for his soldiers and respected his elders. He cared so greatly for Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, if not always in line with the rest of the Jedi. This was beyond clearer than anything else. 

But Obi-Wan would not be slumped over beside her if this was not true. His elbows rested on his knees as he rubbed his face. "He was the one who gutted the temple."

"How..." Her voice was small and so unlike the regal or firm tones she typically used. "How could he do that to his friends? His mentors?"

"They were not his friends and mentors." He shivered. "They were predominantly padawans and..."

"Younglings?" She asked, but it sounded like a desperate plea. 

The silence was damning enough. 

She choked down a sob of her own, but had little to say in response to that. Even for someone as eloquent with words as Satine, there wasn't anything you could say to appropriately respond to the news that someone near and dear not only crossed the line of evil, but went so far as to take the lives of the most innocent. 

"And I still couldn't follow through. Even after knowing that." He shuttered. "I failed. I- I failed him."

She slid off the edge of the bed and into a kneeling position on the floor in front of him, imploring him to look at her. "No, you did not. If anything, he failed you."

He did not reply to that just as she knew he would not. She'd been right before at assuming he was accepting responsibility at its entirety for this whole mess. She just did not know the angle of it. In a sense, she could not blame how he came to that conclusion. She'd witnessed firsthand the bond between a Master and an Apprentice up close. It went beyond a simple mentor/mentee process, but had familial and friendship layers to it. It was a lonely galaxy for a Jedi and oftentimes the family found within that order was their reprieve. Now, all of that was torn to shreds and the very same way Satine blamed herself for the path Bo-Katan chose, Obi-Wan blamed himself for Anakin's fall.

"He failed you, Ben." She repeated and used the name she'd coined for him when they were undercover on the run. It became something of a fond pleasantry only reserved for serious moments. She'd never lived a moment more serious in her life and she'd been close to meeting her end at the hands of a former Sith.

He looked up to meet her gaze with glassy eyes. He looked so unlike his normal self- so the very opposite of a Jedi, and maybe he could sense that she noticed this, because he reached out and took her hands in his, like he needed to explain to _her_ that everything horrible in the galaxy was, in fact, his fault.

"I raised him."

"Would you sooner blame me for Bo-Katan's indiscretions with Death Watch?"

"That's different."

Considering Bo-Katan _never_ touched a single hair on a child's head, yes, it was miles different, but the principal at the core still remained. Satine was a master negotiator and could triumph Kenobi yet.

"You are certainly not perfect," She squeezed his hands and he snorted, "But you were a good Master and you did what you could. Anakin was free to make his own choices and failures. I know you will not allow me to absolve you of entire guilt nor will you ever hate him, but I encourage you to think back to what _your_ Jedi Master would say."

"Qui-Gon would say it was the will of the force." He sighed, "Said that about everything, didn't he?"

She smiled softly. "He certainly had a way about him."

"I miss him." Obi-Wan admitted, which under any other circumstance he would not voice, even if he felt it. "I am glad, in a way, that he did not live to see this."

At some point during their maudlin conversation, it had begun to rain outside, which while the rain on Mandalore was scheduled, it always seemed to catch her off guard. Even more shocking, Satine hadn't noticed it until an artificial crack of lightning broke across the sky. The flash reflected off of Obi-Wan's face and for a moment she could see the young padawan that came to her aid so long ago, who absconded her heart during stolen glances across a makeshift campfire and proceeded to break it when he left. After all this chaos, there was still hope in the man's eyes.

"There's more." She prodded. 

He quirked a brow. "You've always been nosey."

She scoffed, "Well if you don't want to tell me-"

For a second, his hardened features softened and it was clear he was giving in. "Padmé's children survived the birth and I must ensure their safety."

She let that factoid linger in the air for a moment before adding to it the detail that Obi-Wan would not, for reasons that he was likely coming to terms with, because if Satine could really take a wild gander, had been the source of all of this. "They're Anakin's aren't they?"

For a second, Obi-Wan snapped out of his sorrow and look at her in an almost comical surprise. "You _knew_?"

"Was it not common knowledge that they were together?"

He stuttered. "No! I was not- I mean I had my assumptions that he- No! We're Jedi- We..."

"Hush now, Obi." She sighed, "Do you really think you are the first and only Jedi to play with fire?"

Her gaze was knowing and he returned it in kind and for a moment, she was transported to memories that seemed a millennia away- one where they were treading from planet to planet, through all terrain, not quite sure what the next day would bring. It was easy to grow close with someone after being forced together by the elements. It was all the easier when that someone was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Of course, nothing could ever be easy between the two of them. A figurative mountain of obligation stood between them. Still, they'd managed to poke cracks through the surface and allow some light to peak through, whether allowed or not. 

But Obi-Wan walked away that day in a way that Anakin could not. For Obi-Wan, it had always been one or the other- never both, and Satine could never bring herself to make him choose. It would have made her too guilty... To take him away from his lifestyle. She certainly would have grown to resent him had he made her choose between him and Mandalore. She could not do that to him and she could not do that to herself. Instead, they stood with the sun casting shadows on their faces on that last day, staring at one another and waiting for _something_ until the thing they waited for could never come and before they knew it, they were parting ways. 

He was so very much the strong and faithful Jedi back then and his future was so very bright. She had a community to turn into a city all by herself, but believed her future could also be bright. 

No such promises existed now.

And with that, along with how terribly it hurt to look at him like this- to see how the force managed to chew him up and spit him out and still have the audacity to request more of him, she realized that she'd take the burden of his possible resentment if it meant their lives would be better than what they had now. The tiny voice inside her head told her that Obi-Wan could never resent her and she still hoped that rang true. 

"I'm calling it." She said abruptly as though she was adjourning a business meeting.

He furrowed his brow at her in a way that let her know it was her turn to elaborate.

So, she gathered all the courage she could muster and went on with a conversation that likely should have occurred much sooner. "Forgive me if this is 20 years too late, but I have to ask. I cannot bear to see you continue on like this and frankly, I'm not sure if I can either. Stay with me... Please?"

For a moment, it was just them in the entire galaxy. There was no genocide or newfound tyranny or impending invasion. Just them and Satine swore she could hear her own heart thrumming in her ears. She waited for this frustrating man in front of her to decline. How could he step away now when the galaxy needed him most? There were children involved, evidently. The leader was a Sith Lord! He was a wanted criminal. The list of why they should not seemed to grow longer by the second, but she banished all of those thoughts, because all she wanted right now was for his safety. 

"You're saying the word." He said incredulously.

"I am." She never broke his stare.

He choked out what she could not tell to be a laugh or half a sob of relief, but he lifted her hands and kissed them both. "Shouldn't I be the one on bended knee?"

Shock permeated across her chest for a moment, before stubbornness settled in. She patted his knee gently, to which he winced; making the silent point that he was in no shape to make such a gesture. "I asked you first."

There was a softness in his features that she always adored and this moment, despite his being through hell and back, did not change the way he looked at her. He reached out and framed her face with his hands. She took comfort in the familiarity of the callouses that brushed along her cheekbones and leaned into his touch. 

"I accept."

Her heart was still filled with a world of hurt, but she pushed all that away in favor of a true and genuine smile to break through the sorrow. She was delighted to see that through glassy eyes and frown lines, he mirrored her expression. A glimmer of light in a dark space. Love would not cure all of their problems or heal them whole, but it would help. They'd spent too many years rejecting it and they still ended up where they sat, so maybe, a different tactic would be useful to them. 

It was small, but it was enough for right now.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." He joked and smirked when she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shut-up." And she closed the unbearable distance and kissed him soundly. 

After a gratuitous amount of that, she made a curious sound in the back of her throat and he pulled away instantly with a vulnerability she was not entirely used to (but certainly fond of). "What?"

She shrugged and ran a hand along her own face. "I'll have to get used to the beard."

He scoffed, "It can never be easy with you, can it?"

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." She mimicked with his drawl and all.

"I do love you anyway." He sighed and perhaps the confession shouldn't have startled her the way it did. 

That being said, she would not resist the urge to return the sentiment. "And I, you."

There was still a child to look after somewhere across the galaxy and a Mandalore to distantly keep tabs on. The Empire would call them back to oppose them and there was the fact that both of them were about to become wanted criminals. Their obligations still pulled them every which way, but Satine felt warmth flow through her bones with the knowledge that she was finally allowed to be attached. She'd never known herself for being capable of crying and laughing at the same time, but it worked all the same. 


End file.
